Meiji Spring Story
by Umeko
Summary: Sequel to An Assassin's Tale. What happens after An Assassin's Tale rounds up? A suprise visitor calls on a ordinary Nagasaki household.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: RK and PMK are not owned by me. Neither are their characters.

This is a sequel to my earlier fic "An Assassin's Tale". I have received reviews for the said fic requesting a sequel where Okita and Kichi meet up again and a possible new life for Kichi with Hotaru. I thought, it might be a good idea, so… This is not in chronological order. It is more like a series of flashbacks.

If you have not read "An Assassin's Tale", you may find the characters OCC. BTW, I have merged the characters of PMK Saitou and his RK counterpart.

**1. Meiji Spring **

One spring day in the Meiji era, Fujita Goro stopped in front of the modest house where a clerk lived with his wife and children. He was amused to see it had been built in the traditional manner, almost an oddity in the sea of Western-style buildings popping up in this Nagasaki neighbourhood. He had been passing through the port-city on business for Lord Okubo and this was simply a detour. He didn't really want to spend too long dallying. He took one final drag on his cigarette before flicking it away. Two youngsters, both about nine years of age, were engaged in a mock swordfight before the open gate.

"Ryouma! Soujirou! Don't get your clothes dirty!" A woman's voice cried out, followed by the howl of a younger sibling. Fujita looked askew at the name by the gate. Ueda. It seemed almost too good a coincidence. Whether it was to satisfy his personal curiosity or to fulfil some obscure sense of duty to a departed comrade, he had to call on the nondescript clerk who worked in a major trading firm founded by the late Sakamoto.

"Mother! A policeman!" A boy's attention was drawn to the gate where he stood watching. A mistake on the lad's part as his playmate swung his toy sword around and gave him a half-hearted crack on the wrist. A man's laugh echoed through the spring morning, one that brought memories back to the old Miburou. Okita had a laugh similar to this when he was amused by something. The difference was that this laugh was more mellowed and deeper, since the owner had the good fortune to live past his twenty-fifth year.

"Never take your eyes off an opponent, Soujirou!" Soujirou rubbed at his sore wrist and glared at his brother. They were twins, another quirk of fate. A pretty woman in her twenties came out of the house. A squealing toddler was tied on her back. The man who was sitting on the veranda just out of Fujita's sight got up and walked to his sons. He looked like an older version of Okita even though his hair was cut short and he wore a Western buttoned shirt under his haori. The pair of eyeglasses on his nose did not hide the fact that he had eyes the same shade as Okita's when smiling. He had been whittling a wooden top. There were wood shavings on his hakame and a small knife in his hand.

The smile died when he recognized the policeman. The eyes narrowed and hardened. Assassin's eyes, Saitou smirked. "Ryouma, Soujirou, go in with Mother now…" he passed the freshly-made top to one of the boys. Obediently, both boys scurried to their mother. Puzzled and a little fearful of their visitor and the sudden change in her husband's mood, the woman hurriedly shooed them indoors.

"What brings you here, officer?" The tone was menacing.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Officer Fujita Goro. Mr Ueda, I was just checking if you have noticed any suspicious persons in the vicinity …" Fujita lied and put on his best bumbling cop act. Ueda saw right through it. "Cut the crap," he took off his glasses and slipped them into a pocket in the folds of his hakame.

"What business really brings you here, Saitou Hajime?"

"I was simply passing through and I thought I'd check on the family of a late comrade," Saitou lit another cigarette.

"Really…" The man sounded far from convinced.

"Don't act coy now, Ueda, or should I say, Okita Akira, or would you prefer I call you Kichisaburo? One-time guard with Sakamoto's trading company, involved in gun-running during the Bakumatsu. During this time, you wed a serving girl named Hotaru. After the war, you put away your sword and became a clerk in the company, not a particularly outstanding one, but good enough to provide your family with a life of relative comfort."

"So you did your homework well… What can I say? The age of the sword was over, and my family needed to be provided for. Besides, didn't they pass a law banning samurai from carrying their swords in public? My swords sealed and before the family shrine, if you are interested." Ignoring Ueda, Saitou continued.

"Before that, you were living in Kyoto under the name Kichisaburo. However, you were born the younger son of the Okitas, a samurai household in Edo. At age eight you were fostered to a merchant household, the Uedas. A fire destroyed the household soon after and you were presumed dead. Strangely, you showed up in Kyoto involving in some unsavoury business. It was in Kyoto that we crossed paths and swords…"

"Saitou Hajime, I bid you a good day and please see yourself off." Akira turned on his heel in a huff. Saitou was being rude.

"You have samurai blood in your veins, you trained your sons in kendo and they are outstanding students at the local dojo down the road even at their young age. Your little wife was a poor kunoichi but a kunoichi nevertheless. You have been approached by various dissidents in the past months on account of your skills as a swordsman and your gun-running involvement in the past. Given Kichi's propensity for tumbling into hare-brained schemes for anarchy, tell me are you planning something?"

"Some of my former comrades had approached me but I turned them down. I have no idea of their plans, if any."

"Their names?"

"Slipped my mind," Akira replied tersely.

"Really. Your sense of loyalty is sadly misplaced."

"Unlike a wolf who switched sides mighty quickly…"

"Loyalty comes in many forms. Mine is to my country, not some outdated shogun. You do realize that you and your wife can get imprisoned or worse. What about your two pretty sons? Although they have laws on that kind of thing now, no one really bothers to make sure they are kept. You think your boys will be more popular than their pa in that field?" Saitou continued his goading.

"Shut up!"

Saitou drew his sword, deflecting the knife Akira threw at him. Saitou smirked. "This really brings back old memories… Still sharp, aren't you? How about a good old-fashioned duel? You could get a couple extra scars on you. Or are you still worried your girlish looks..."

"Hotaru! Bring me my sword! I'm gonna cut this big-mouthed carp down to sashimi-size!"

"Just make sure you don't mess up the garden!" Hotaru threw the sheathed sword out of the window to her husband, who caught it in a fluid move. Still swift on his feet, he drew his sword as he charged towards Saitou. Saitou chuckled as he parried. The blades caught with a resounding clash of steel on steel. Then a quick right feint by Saitou, followed by a swift punch to Akira's exposed side with the sheath. Akira crumpled to the ground.

"I have no intention of arresting you or threatening your family. Sorry about anything offensive earlier, I had to test you. Obviously, you are out of practice and will be a major liability in any dissident plot. One more thing, you are too easy to provoke, unlike Okita."

"Have you ever told my brother to his face that he resembles a girl?" Akira coughed and winced at the bruise in his side.

"Yeah, that was probably the only way I can get him to be deadly serious during practice. He sorta got immune to it after a while… then he got ill and I lost my only serious sparring partner…" Saitou stopped and watched as the boys and Hotaru run out of the house. Akira was still sprawled on the ground.

"Sweetheart, I'm alright, he's just an old acquaintance…" Akira reassured his wife. The two boys wielded their bokkens and ran at Saitou, only to be yanked back by their collars by their parents. "I said he is an old acquaintance from the Bakumatsu!" He rapped both lightly on the head.

"If he's an old friend of yours, I'll go prepare some tea!" Hotaru chirped and skipped off with the boys in tow. Saitou and Akira sweatdropped. She hadn't changed one bit. The tension was defused as Hotaru hummed and prepared some tea and snacks for their visitor. While the boys drowsed on the veranda, Akira and Saitou waited in the tea room.

"She's a good girl," Saitou remarked, recalling the last time he saw the innocent little scatterbrain. "I know. All the more reason for me to tell those nitwits to stuff their plots up their asses and go jump in the harbour," Akira laughed dryly. One lousy scheme was more than enough. Saitou observed the boys. For a moment, he felt the pangs of homesickness. Tokio and his young son might be sitting on their little porch, watching the clouds…

"So, has Fujita-san settled down?" Hotaru gracefully returned with the tea and manju cakes. Thankfully, she did not spill the tea this time.

"First marriage didn't work out. The second seems alright so far… Little ones grow up fast, don't they? When I left my son the last time, he was still a baby. The last time I saw him again, he was walking and calling me Papa."

Hotaru laughed musically. "Fujita-san, I think you should spend more time with your family. Some things can never come back once they have passed." Saitou nodded in agreement. She politely excused herself.

"You know, sometimes I wish things turned out differently…" Akira mused.

"Ueda, did you see your brother again after that?"

"Yes, once before he… passed away…" Akira blinked as his thoughts went back to that day in Edo…

**Author's Notes:**

Ryouma and Soujirou? Now how did Akira come up with those names? (Rolls eyes innocently)


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: RK and PMK are not owned by me. Neither are their characters.

This is based on An Assassin's Tale and Green Tea and Haiku. Okita fans please get out your tissues. This is gonna be a tear-jerker.

**2. Brothers**

_May 1868, Edo_

"Okita-san, you have a visitor!" Midori called out as she approached the lonely shack some referred to as the Dying House. Indeed, all its occupants ended their stay there carried out for the grave. Tuberculosis, the slow death with the hacking coughs, had claimed many in the past few years. Tuberculosis, like death, was a great equalizer. Nobility, beggar, man, woman or child, it claimed all its victims in the same cruel way.

Not even the greatest swordsman could escape this fate. Okita Souji coughed and wiped away the blood that trickled out of a corner of his mouth. He felt miserable and feverish. It was a sunny spring day and he had fallen asleep at the doorway in the sunlight. Now it was shady and sun had moved. Only a small puddle of sun remained before him. He stuck his bare feet out into the lingering pool of sunlight, letting it drive whatever chill it could from him.

Was he dreaming again? A few nights ago he had dreamt his friend Kenni called on him, Kenni with his cross-scar and a heart far too tender to be the Ishin's top assassin. He was a child doing bloody work most men would not even want to do and suffered tremendously for it. Okita prayed his young friend would be able to recover.

Who was the last occupant before him? A sad little girl who passed away from the dreaded illness, so they whispered. The girl's black cat still haunts the hut, meowing for its mistress. Okita had heard it again at night. Some days, he fancies he feels a presence in the shack. Was that how Saitou senses the dead? Or would he see a little girl coughing in the corner of the room? His mind was wandering again.

"Okita-san, you have a visitor!" Midori's voice jarred him to wakefulness. Was it Hijikata? Or Kondou? However, Okita knew instinctively it would not be them. He had dreamt they visited, just as he dreamt Sakamoto visited… Then they went off to the hills to watch the black ships…

"I'm really sorry about this… Okita-san's in his last days. His spirit is already halfway in the next world," Midori apologized to the visitor, a young man with a remarkable resemblance to the swordsman. "I'll just sit here." A scrap of a bench told Okita his visitor had settled on the crude bench near him. He forced himself to focus.

"A-Akira?" Souji almost leapt up. Akira laughed softly. "Easy there…"

"H-how did you find me?"

"I have my ways," Akira replied with a gleam of mischief. He was slightly burnt by the sun, a little in need of a shave and wore a Western jacket. "I'm working for the Ishin. We found some letters from Nagakura to his sister Midori about a patient. That patient's you. I checked it out with Nagakura-san."

"So it was true. Hotaru told me she met someone in Nagasaki. I thought that person might be you. What did you do? Tell her you loved killing people again?"

"I messed up my proposal. I announced it over dinner with everyone one night and she fled immediately. She told me she likes me but she needed to go sort out her thoughts first. Besides, working at Sakamoto's didn't quite agree with her. Too many guys, too few pretty girls and I'm not always around to keep certain guys out of mischief."

"You wrote letters to her, I never knew you could write so well. She had me read them to her when Umeko-dono or Nami-san was not about."

"I was mad at her for leaving for a while. Took to hanging about the local tavern and brawling at the pier afterwards. Then one day I met some weird guy named Ryouma who talked some sense into me. Said if I can still get in touch with her where she was working, I should. He even provided me with the address. At first I had one of the clerks write for me. Then I picked it up myself."

Okita grinned. He never thought Sakamoto had it in him to play matchmaker. Maybe Umeko-dono had a hand in it too. Goodness knew she was always trying to have the single girls working under her happily settled down. "So how are things for you two now?"

"Well, see for yourself." Okita flinched as Akira handed him a photograph. Tetsu-kun handed one to him from Hijikata-san, and Okita knew Hijikata did not intend to return alive if he lost the battle. "Go on, look at it," his twin urged. Cautiously, he peered at it and immediately broke into a broad smile.

"Akira, what a lovely couple you make!" It was a black-and-white photo of a wedding couple in the traditional wedding garb. Akira was dressed totally in black, hakame, surcoat and all, two swords at his side. He looked the picture of a samurai hero if not for his Westernized hairstyle and the unshaven look. Hotaru was not wearing makeup as far as Okita could deduce from the grainy photo. She was clad in the traditional bridal kimono, with one hand resting on her husband's arm.

Akira chuckled. "Newly wed a month ago. It wasn't much of a ceremony. They said we should get wed before leaving town. So Hotaru's kunoichi sisters rustled up the clothes and a priest. One of them persuaded a photographer to take this for us, a spring-time wedding with the sakura blooming all about us. Ryouma had promised to give us a special gift for our wedding. It's a pity he wasn't able to attend."

Sakamoto had been killed. He was too easygoing and trusting. Akira figured he might have opened the door to his killer, since no one reported any disturbances. Caught by surprise, his friend would not be able to use his sword or pistols. If only Akira hadn't been asked to remain in Nagasaki then to oversee some important shipments… The blond kunoichi Ryouma hired was untrustworthy. She had vanished after the murders with scarcely a trace.

Akira stared pensively into the air, lost momentarily in his thoughts. Okita coughed again, quickly turning away so his twin will not see the blood.

"Hotaru's a good girl," Okita murmured.

"I will treat her well," Akira replied. "She's staying at an inn outside Edo. She's feeling a little poorly from the journey. Ryouma told me someday all this will be over, it will be a new era of peace. I believe him. I really wish you weren't ill, Souji-niichan. We could all live together in a nice house in a peaceful town. I wish you will find some good woman, get married and your kids will play with my kids… but it isn't gonna happen, isn't it…" He blinked away tears that came to his eyes.

"Look, Akira, get your chin up. Don't let my illness get to you and Hotaru. I wish you both the best," Souji smiled. "Now, wipe away those tears. Whatever will Hotaru say if you go back to her in this state?"

"You're right, I'll upset her," Akira agreed. "My name's Ueda Akira now. She doesn't know about us being related. I can't bring myself to tell her everything yet. But someday, I will."

"You mean she hasn't figured it out yet?"

"Well, she did mention I have a slight resemblance to someone she was sweet on once. I guess I don't have the same look as you do."

"Right, you stay in the sun too much and need a shave," Okita Souji joked. He wanted to embrace his brother but he knew he couldn't. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

"I hope to pay my respects to Father and Mother, and Uncle Ueda too."

"Their graves are in the Okita family plot, near the shady cherry trees. Uncle Ueda's just the next plot on the left to ours. It will be nice place for me to watch the world go by when I'm gone… You will put me there soon, wouldn't you?"

"Nonsense!" Akira exclaimed, but deep inside, he knew Okita was being truthful about his condition. To his horror, he saw a black cat slinking towards his brother from the shadows. A black cat, the symbol of death from the dreaded illness, was stalking his twin. Instinctively, he drew his sword and slashed the hapless creature into half. Okita let out a stricken cry as if he had been hurt.

"Akira! Why?" The sudden emotion was too much for him and he choked, coughing up blood.

"A black cat! I don't want niichan to die!" Akira tearfully stabbed the carcass for good measure. "I really don't want…"

"That old superstition?" Souji spat out the blood and wiped his mouth, his eyes unnaturally bright in his pallid face. "Even if it were a white cat, I do not have long… Akira, please… I know my own condition. Every day I feel weaker…" he shrugged. "If it is my fate to go this way, I have accepted it…Look, you got blood on your boots."

"Sorry, niichan, I just find it too hard to accept."

"Akira, I promise you something. Whatever happens, you always have my blessings. Even if I am not around in person, my spirit will be watching over you and your family, as I'm sure Father and Mother have been watching out for us all these years…" Smiling, Okita closed his eyes slowly. "I'm tired… let me rest a while…just a while…" He slumped against a pillar, looking as if he had dozed off.

Akira waited and waited. The evening shadows grew. At last, he reached out to shake his twin. "Souji-niichan?" Understanding dawned on him. "Baka, you said you were going to rest for a while… Sayonara then, till we meet again someday…" Blinking away tears, he went to fetch Midori.

That scene would be etched into his memory, Soujirou peacefully resting against a pillar, with a hint of a smile on his lips.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: RK and PMK are not owned by me. Neither are their characters.

This is based on An Assassin's Tale. It is over. Sorry for the looooonnggg hold-up.

Back to the Meiji era.

* * *

**3. Reminiscence**

Saitou took a swig of his tea before continuing. "Hn, so you were the one who arranged his funeral and signed off your purchases as Okita Akira. No wonder Mitsu was so freaked out when she came to Edo to arrange her brother's matters and found them already taken care off. You never contacted her or your other sister." Saitou lit a cigarette.

"I don't want to upset their lives. They have thought of me as dead all these years. No point raking up the past."

"You took Okita's sword, didn't you?"

"Guilty as charged. Mitsu was going to sell it to some curio collector from the States, so I flinched it. They say a sword is a samurai's soul. It didn't seem right for Mitsu to sell it for a quick buck. It's in a quiet shrine in Kyoto now," Akira grinned. "But really, the era of the sword's nearly done… I wonder what will become of my sons and their sons. Kendo with bokkens is different, isn't it?"

The grin faded and Akira turned to look at his sons. Saitou followed his gaze. One boy was lying against a pillar, legs sprawled out and his hands behind his head. His sibling was curled up next to him with his head resting on his lap. Which was Soujirou and which Ryouma? It didn't really matter. They were children born into this new Meiji era, a promised era of peace both Sakamoto Ryouma and Okita Souji failed to live to see. What would they make of the men they were named after when they grow up?

"Yes, bokkens are lighter. They do not have the full weight of a katana, but I might be mistaken," Saitou mused. "Few have lived through that bloody era and emerged unscathed. Of the great Ishin leaders, only Lord Okubo remains. Katsura's dead. So's Saigo."

"You forgot Sakamoto… His death was a loss to the nation," Akira chuckled fondly at the memory of a large man with his dreadlocks and loud guffaw.

"Yes, I forgot you admired him enough to name one of your boys after him. But some folks have the tenacity of a roach. That harridan from the Kyoto morgue still runs the place. I had some official business with her some time back. She was one tough nut. Your previous boss, Osu, went into a nunnery," Saitou paused to blow a smoke circle.

"I never knew that old witch had a religious streak."

"Shoved one too many rivals into the Kamo river, I suppose… And that Katsura's sister's lost whatever marbles she had in her head to start with. Your wife worked for her once, you know."

"Umeko-dono's mostly harmless. She's just gone on a long journey to sort things out." Akira replied. Umeko had passed through Nagasaki and stayed a few days with them sometime ago. She was eccentric, but harmless.

"Does mostly harmless include threatening random policemen with her naginata? If it weren't for Okubo…" Akira sweatdropped. Maybe Umeko had really been unhinged by her brother's death. It was time to change the topic.

"Saitou-san, is what they say about you true? That you can see things of the spirit world…" Akira ventured. Saitou nodded. "A little bit. In this era, my powers aren't as keen as they were back then…"

"Do you see him?" Akira probed. Saitou focused. There was a slight tingle in the air. A hazy outline of a young man was sitting next to the sleeping boys. The ghostly apparition turned and winked at the former Miburou, before fading away with a smile. "Yes, I did. Okita is very pleased with what you have made of your life. So stay out of trouble."

"Oh, I will," Akira promised his late brother.

"I must be going…" Saitou put on his cap and got up. "You probably wouldn't be seeing me around here, if you know what's good for you."

"Definitely." Akira walked the policeman to the gate. Officer Fujita Goro left without further ado.

(Owari)


End file.
